


My Name is Death

by BleedxLikexMe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America: The First Avenger - Fandom, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Death, Darcy is Something Else, Oops, Suicide Attempt, Tags Are Fun, Vaguely AU, also, discussion of near-death experiences, idk if i spelled that right, kinda dark guys, semi-graphic discription of suicide attempt, spoilers for each movie mentioned in the 'Fandoms' tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedxLikexMe/pseuds/BleedxLikexMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of times the Avengers had brushes with Death or her Reapers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Name is Death

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags so you know what might trigger you. I tried to tage everything, but I'm not sure I got it all. So, please read the tags. :) Thank you.

Steve hated having to go to a psychologist, but SHIELD had made it mandatory for him. He'd stalled for as long as he could, using any excuse not go, but it was time to face the music. Walking into the small office made Steve feel trapped, but he wasn't about to run. Not now, anyways. The SHIELD psycologist was a young, unthreatening looking woman, with brown hair and green eyes. She was thin, with mocha coloured skin, and black glasses. She wore a white dress with a pair of white ballet flats. Steve noticed the glock strapped to her waist, but didn't mention it.

When he sat down, she introduced herself as Doctor Montgomery. They chatted about meaningless things for a while, before they got down to the nitty gritty. Somehow, she made Steve pour out his secrets. She had him talking about the serum, the procedure, Agent Carter, the war, easily. Well, not easily, Steve still felt like he wasn't able to breathe most of the time, but Doctor Montgomery made him feel mostly safe about talking to her. His deepest thoughts came spilling out of him, with the smallest prompt from the Doctor. "Tell me about the crash, Captain." She said softly, her voice never wavered from that caring, sweet tone.

Steve's breath stuttered in his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut, "I- I don't remember much after talking to Peggy." He admitted quietly.

Doctor Montomgery gave him a warm smile, "Walk me through what you do remember." She didn't have a pad of paper on her lap, she had simply crossed her legs and smiled at him. So, Steve did. He put himself back in the plane, just after he crashed. It was painful, crashing the plane. Remembering was painful, too. But he didn't think about that. He recalled the cold, and the water. He spoke as he remembered:

_Steve had a gash across his forehead from where he'd hit the cross section of the handles as the plane hit the water. He hadn't thought hitting water would be like driving into concrete, but it was. Groggily, Steve had stood from the pilot seat and tried to make his way out of the plane, but the headwound combined with the water rushing into the cockpit made that impossible. Resigned to his fate, Steve clutched his shiled to his chest and slid down the wall. His knees were flush against his shield, and he kept his head down._

_The cool vibranium was the only comfort he'd had, "Steve." A voice whispered to him, and Steve frowned, lifting his head. He blinked blood from his eyes and gaped when he saw a beautiful young woman kneeling infront of him. The woman wore a trailing dress, the fabric black as death, and no shoes. The dress was silky looking, and painfully see-through. It was a full body dress, that covered the woman from neck to feet. It hugged her curves, not leaving much to the imagination, and made her skin look pale and sheer._

_Steve gaped at her, "I'm sorry." He whispered, tears stinging his eyes._

_The woman pursed her naked lips at him and pushed an errant curl of brown hair away from her face, "Why?" She asked, tilting her head slightly._

_The lights of the cockpit flashed and, for a split second, the woman's features changed. A skull covered the womans face, as if someone had cast a shadow over her skin, or lit up her skeleton from the inside, "You're going to die. We can't get out." His voice was hoarse and cracked with emotion. He couldn't believe this beautiful, etheral woman was going to die with him, just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time_

_She smiled widely at him, pearly white teeth flashing dangerously, "Don't worry, Steve. I'm not going to die and neither are you. You're time isn't up yet." She caressed his face, and Steve shuddered at the ice-like fingers trailing over his skin. Water sloshed around them, soaking the skirt of her dress and the trousers of his uniform._

_Confusion filled Steve's groggy brain, and he frowned at the woman, "What do you mean?" She shushed him gently, like his mother had when he was a young child and crying, smiling like nothing was wrong as she comforted him. Something in Steve's brain found that wrong. He should be comforting her, not the other way around. But Steve was so suddenly tired that he couldn't muster the strength to do anything other than speak._

_The cold was seeping into his bones, making his teeth chatter, "You should sleep now, honey. When you wake up, everything will be alright." The woman whispered sweetly, her fingers trailed over his forehead, leaving exhaustion in its wake._

_Eyes slipping shut, Steve managed to ask one last question, 'Who a-are you?"_

_Without Steve realizing it, the woman had sat down next to Steve and pulled her into his lap. His head rested on her thighs, and water lapped at his arms. His shield was cradled under his limp hand and Steve couldn't make himself hold it at all, "I am salvation." The woman whispered, brushing her fingers through Steve's damp hair. Steve slipped into sleep, with those words ringing in his ears._

\---------------

Tony dreamed almost everynight. It wasn't always the same dream, but lately, he'd been having nightmares. The nightmare he had most often, was a jumble of all those times when he had almost died. From when he was a child, to the nuke he took through the portal during the Chituari invasion. It always started the same, though. That was one of the things Tony could always count on; taxes, Pepper, and this one particular nightmare starting at the same place.

_Tony was eight when it happened. He was at school, showing off Dum-E to his teacher and peers when he got called to the office. He left Dum-E in his locker, knowing no one would be able to take him. Not with how he'd suped up his locker. A big man with a sad expression met him at the office with his principal, "Tony..." Principal Kingsley started slowly, "There's been an incident with your father. Agent Matthews is going to take you to him."_

_Fear gripped Tony tightly, making his heart stutter painfully in his chest, "Dad? What happened? What- is he alive?" The sad expressions on both men's faces was enough for Tony to know. His dad was dead._

_"I'm supposed to take you to your mother. She'll explain everything." Agent Matthews explained gently. Tony nodded miserably and blindly followed the Agent out to one of the generic fancy black cars his dad had his agents use. Climbing in, Tony tuned out whatever the Agent was saying. He didn't need to hear it to know what the man was saying. "I'm so sorry for your loss. Your father was a great man. Your mother really changed him. He would be so proud of you." Tony knew none of those things was true. His dad was a horrible man. His mother hadn't changed him at all. Howard wouldn't ever be proud of Tony, no matter what._

_Everyone would be glad to see him go._

_It took Tony far too long to realize he wasn't being driven home. He was now in he middle of a bunch of empty werehouses, surrounded by dangerous looking men. Roughly, Tony was dragged from the car and shoved onto the concrete, "My dad isn't dead, is he?" Tony asked the crowd of men in black suits. One of them stepped forward, and Tony recognized him as Howard's main rival in the weapons manufacturing business. Charles Ducain, bullionare with an ego and a depleating mass of money. Apparently Charles decided to spend it all on assassins and kidnappers._

_Charles laughed harshly, "Of course not." He spat, "Not yet, anyways. Howard will be dealt with after you're gone." With that, Charles snapped one of his meaty fingers and within seconds, a group of big men had decended on Tony. They kicked him in his ribs, his legs, his arms, and his gut. One of the men's boots caught Tony on his chin, forcing his head to snap backwards sharply. Giving a loud cry of pain, Tony tried to curl in on himself. It only seemed to make the men kick him harder._

_Peeking between his fingers, Tony spotted a pale woman in a black dress. She had long golden brown hair, eyes so blue they looked black, and no shoes. Her dress was blacker than anything Tony had ever seen, and it took him a second to realize he could almost see through it. In any other situation, Tony would have been estatic. Just, not now. Not when he was getting kicked to death. The woman noticed Tony looking at her, and glided over to him. He saw her feet move, but it was like she wasn't touching the cold floor. She phased through the men around Tony and crouched down next to him, "It's going to be okay."_

_Tony spat a wad of blood and spit on the floor, groaning, "I'm going to die." Tony moaned, nearly silent in his agony. The men were called off of him and Tony almost thanked Charles. But he didn't. It was a close thing, though, "How is it going to be okay? You're a freaking ghost. A ghost shouldn't be trying to comfort me."_

_The woman gave Tony a wry smile, "I'm not a ghost. I'm Death."_

_Tony gave her a pained grimace, "Not helping your position." He tried to shrug but gave up. The woman, Death, just grinned at him and pressed her open palm to his bruised cheek. Suddenly, Tony is sprawled out on a fancy motel mattress. This time he's twenty-two. And high as a kite. He knew something was wrong, even before the oddly familiar woman in black appeared before him. Two prositutes (or maybe strippers? Wait, where did he get them from again?) Are passed out on either side of him, while three more girls on out cold on the carpeted floor. Death gave him a smile and made her way over to Tony, "Get clean, Stark. We have big plans for you." With that, she cupped his cheek, and the scene changed again._

_This time, Tony was in Afghanistan, chest full of shrapnel, and a car battery hooked up to him. He wondered if the woman came to him during the surgery, wondered if she kept him alive long enough for Yensen to have any chance of doing it on his own. He saw her when he was being drowned. Saw her when Obidia ripped out his arc reactor, Tony saw her after he had Pepper flip the switch to kill Obbie. He didn't see her very much after that. Not until the palladium poisoning got bad._

_Then, it was like he couldn't turn a corner without spotting the tail end of her skirt, or seeing her slight frown. Finally, after catching her pout at his neck and then glare at the door, Tony spoke to her, "You got a name?"_

_She regarded him carefully from her spot on his couch. She was lounging on it lazily, but still somehow holding a regal power that Tony had tried to meulate in his own posture. She had one leg draped over the other, her sheer black gown trailed over her pale legs like water, as she rested one arm on the egde of the couch and the other was stretched over the back of the couch. She was the picture of relaxted, but there was something about the way she held herself that demanded respect, "I told you before."_

_Tony snorted, shaking his head, "Yeah, right. Death. Not exactly welcoming, is it?" He glanced at her, notcing absently that she was wearing the same dress as always. Black, with no shoes, "You got another name?"_

_The woman grinned cheekily at him, "Many." He scowled at Death, "But, you may call me... Delta."_

_"Yeah, no. Not gonna happen." Tony shook his head again, wondering if this was how Pepper felt when Tony was being particularly stubborn, "How about Piper?"_

_Death frowned at Tony, "Piper?"_

_Clearly she didn't like the name. Tony bobbed his head esxcitedly, "Yeah, Piper and Pepper Potts. The two women that I can count on the be there for me whenever I fuck up."_

_Death regarded him carefully, "Do you think that only come when you fuck up?"_

_"Actually, no. I think you're incredibly busy. Which means I must be just as awesome as I thought if you're spending your time with me."_

_Death snorted, shaking her head with a smirk, "Tony, darling-"_

_"Oooh, pet names already. We must be serious." Tony chuckled._

_Ignoring his interruption with a regal aura, Death continued speaking, "you are so much more important than you can possibly imagine." She gave him a secret smile, "Trust me." Standing, she peered around his lab and padded over to Tony. Dusting her fingertips along Tony's cheek in a very maternal gesture, she watched him with warm eyes, "I'll be seeing you, Tony." She murmured as she walked towards the door. She shimmered out of view, like dust blowing away with the wind._

_And see him she did. Tony was, like, ninty-nine percent sure Pepper was going to put him on meds if he kept talking to thin air. Eventually he just started keeping a blue tooh in his ear, so he could pretend to be on a call when she gave him the 'Oh, God Tony's Actually Crazy' stare. When Natalia turned out to be Natasha, Tony delighted in the way Death (he never really got around to giving her a name they both liked) would do small things to set Natasha on edge when she really pissed Tony off._

_After that, Tony didn't see Death anymore._

Tony woke up, feeling oddly refreshed, just like he did each time he had That Dream.

\---------

Natasha Romanov hated the feeling that she was being watched when she was absolutely alone. As in, not even a camera or agent in sight. She'd felt it often enough to become increasingly annoyed by it. At first, she thought it was just a weird reaction to being on mission, but the Red Room had managed her well enough and long enough for her to realize it wasn't just that. After she joined SHIELD she thought it was Clint fucking with her, but he swore by his bow that he hadn't been.

Nearing insanity, Natasha had managed to get badly wounded in the field during a mission. A figure materialized in front of her and if Natasha wasn't numb and paralized from her wounds, she would have bounced around cheering for having discovered the cause of her discomfort. Or, well, quietly celebrated with a glass of wine, really. Natasha didn't generally bounce around. It was the principle of the thing.

The figure turned out to be a beautiful young woman in a black gown with no shoes. The woman's brunette hair curled around her shoulders freely, a slight wind-blown look to it that made her look dangerous as well as etheral and otherworldly. She nodded at Natasha instead of speaking and leaned against the closest wall while agents rushed to Natasha's side.

Like the saying went, 'actions speak louder than words'.

\--------

Bruce's hands shook as he loaded the bullets into the gun. It was a small caliber hand gun. A silver twenty-two with no real shine to it, considering how old it was. Bruce had cleaned the gun, he didn't want it to jam or blow up in his hands. After cleaning it, he had shot it a couple times, just to make sure. Everything was working nicely and Bruce's chest felt tight. He was so close. So close to being _free_ of the monster inside of him, he could almost taste it.

Breathing out slowly, Bruce raised the gun, fitted his lips over it, and closed his eyes. As he did so, he missed a person materialize in the pew in front of him. She wore a sad expression and muttered a silent, "I hate suicides." as she watched Bruce. A strange feeling of elation filled Bruce and a smile exploded on his face as he pulled the trigger.

His worled went green.

Pain.

Confusion.

Anger.

Hulk roared with rage as he burst forth. He ripped free of Banner's clothes, his pants straining on Hulk's large frame. Hulk's sharp green gaze landed on the woman calmly sitting on the pew in front of him and he felt a pull towards her. Confused at the sensation, Hulk screamed and crashed his fists down onto the woman and the pew. The wood splintered easily but Hulk's fists passed through the woman. Frowning, Hulk punched at the woman and his hand caused no damage to her. She simply arched an eyebrow at him when he dropped his fist and roared in frustration, " **Who you?** " Hulk demanded angrily. His chest was heaving with his rage and his fists were clenched tightly by his sides.

The woman grinned brilliantly at him, making something warm spread through Hulk and it didn't feel like anger. Hulk didn't like it, "I'm Death. Your boy, Banner, tried to kill himself," her smile slipped and Hulk resisted the urge to use his fingertips to push her lips up again, "and, obviously, that doesn't work. So I'm here to make you a deal."

Hulk cocked his head to the side, " **Why should Hulk listen to Death-Lady?** "

A giggle burst out of Death and Hulk decided he liked /that/. Her smile was bac as she vanished. and Hulk almost smiled too, "Because, if you're good and don't do much damage, you get to completely destroy over a hundred aliens, punch a god, and smash New York /without/ getting into trouble." Death paused and gave Hulk a sly look, "In fact, a whole bunch of people _want_  you to."

" **People _want_ Hulk smash?**" Hulk gaped, bewildered.

Death nodded eagerly, "Yeah! But, in order for this to happen, you need to be good, Hulk." She smiled softly at him and reached out to gently pet his arm. Hulk's tension melted beneath her touch and he purred contentedly as he slid to the ground, "Can you do that for me?"

Hulk nodded sleepily, " **Hulk be good Mama-Death.** " He yawned, " **Hulk smash aliens.** " He curled up in front of her and quickly passed out. Death gave him an amused grin as he slowly shrunk back into Bruce.

"Good boy, Baby-Green." Death murmured quietly as she vanished.

\---------

Clint Barton had always seen the weird people in black suits, ever since he was a young child. Maybe even before then, but he didn't remember any of that. All he knew, was that they had always been around. Sometimes they were in small (or large, depending on what was happening) groups, but, mostly, they were alone. Or, they were alone when Clint saw them as a child. There was always one at the circus, but, after that, when Clint became a free-lance killer, there groups of them. They worked silently while bullets and arrows blurred past them.

Their appearance varied greatly. Sometimes they were wrinkly old men, sometimes men and women in their late twenties, and, occasionally, children. Clint quickly realized what they were- Reapers- and that no one else could see them. Well, not anyone that would admit it. Not that Clint had inquired about that. How does one even ask that? "Hey, can you see those creepy fuckers in the funeral suits too? No? Alright, good talk." Yeah, that was a one-way trip to the psych-ward.

When Clint joined SHIELD he had to do a double take at his handler. Supervisory Special Agent Phil Coulson had a bit of Reaper in him. Well, a lot of Reaper in him, by the looks of it. Agent Coulson had given Clint a one over and nodded in solemn comradary. Apparently Coulson noticed Clint had a lot of Reaper in him, too- thanks ma- and had no problem discussing Reaper trivia facts with him when they were alone. Clint never learned much about his heritage, he just knew that his mother was a full-blown Reaper and that his dad was a half-breed. Half human, half Reaper. What'a family tree. Clint's parents had vanished (assumed dead by the local PD) and left Clint and Barney to fend for themselves, which meant his knowlege of Reapers was more than lacking.

_Error 404, information not found._

But Phil- as the man had come to be- was practically an open book on the subject. Clint learned both his parents were half-breeds and had been Recycled (a Reapers death, Clint learned) when Phil was twenty-six. Clint learned so much in their time together, and he appreciated everything he received. Soon enough, he was sent on a mission to take out the Black Widow, but ended up taking her in instead. Phil just looked the woman over once before nodding and casually slid a SHIELD employee contract over to the handcuffed woman.

\-------------

Darcy Lewis refused to believe this was her life. Or, well, afterlife. Apparently, she was, y'know,  _dead_. She breathed deep, "So, I'm dead and you're... Death? Like, the Horseman or something?"

Death nodded, "I am. And you're death was not supposed to happen. If you'd like, I can bring you back."

Darcy considered that. She had died and could come back, how many people had that chance? But... she was okay eing dead. It was... relaxing, really. Sitting up there in Heaven, it was so peaceful. Darcy had never been happier. She wasn't sure she wanted to go back to... being alive. She didn't have the greatest relationship with her mom and she didn't have any siblings, so she was pretty relaxed here. Pursing her lips, Darcy shook her head, "No," she began slowly, "I think I'm good here."

Death nodded, "I understand you not wanting to leave, but you're the catalyst for a series of events that are very important. You need to be alive just long enough for man to be found. That is all."

Darcy chewed on her lower lip, "Can't you find someone else?"

Death shrugged, "I would be the only one, really."

Darcy felt a spring of hope bloom in her chest, "Then why don't you? You'd have an awesome time! I mean, I didn't much like being around my mom, but maybe you'll do it better than me? I hate to leave her alone, but... I'm happy here. I know it's a lot to ask of you-"

Death held her hand up, silencing Darcy, "I think I'll take this destiny as my own. Part time of course. I just need to learn more about being you. I won't be able to be you _exactly_ but I'll be able to be a lot like you."

Darcy shook her head, her blond hair whipping around her face, "No! That's a terrible idea! You're not me, so be a new Darcy. Be a whole new Darcy Lewis!" Darcy grinned widely, "Besides, I've been wanting to dye my hair brown for a long time." She giggled.

Death laughed as well, throwing her head backwards with a large grin, "That would be for the best, I agree."

Darcy gave Death a long-suffering look, "Oh man. If you're gonna take my name, you need to use slang. And be loud. Also, drinking. Deal?" Sticking out her hand, she waited for Death to shake it. And when she did, Darcy gasped at the cold, icy skin that met her semi-warm skin. Their hands began to glow a white-blue color, the light swirled around their hands, diving between their fingers and under their skin, "What's that?"

Death gave a small smile to Darcy, "It's your memories. I need them, regardless of this new Darcy I'm making. If your mother calls I'll need to know what she's talking about. I'm sure I can pul off amnesiac, but that's not really my style." Death grinned and pulled her hand away, the light dying as she did so.

Darcy just chuckled, "Trust me. Mom won't call."

\-----------

Jane Foster had never been more thankful for her assistant than when said assistant pointed out the man-shaped blur in the photo. After rushing around, falling in love, near death experiences, and a really cool end battle scene, Jane fell back into her work. Only this time she was trying to open the Bifrost. Darcy was a life saver the whole time. Except when she tased Thor. That was just embarrassing.

No one talked about the fact that Jane had hit Thor with her mini-van.

Twice.

After being whisked away on a consulation, then being whisked back to a destroyed New York, Jane just wanted to crawl into Thor's arms and fall asleep for a _very_  long time. Unfortunately, that didn't seem likely. Jane was moving into Stark Tower with Thor (and the other Avengers, apparently) and Darcy was helping her. Stark had offered to have people do it but Jane had declined. She didn't like Unknown People touching her things. It broke, like, six different laws Jane followed. Also, sweaty guys touching her things was just gross.

 _Germs_ , folks. _Germs_.

Jane and Darcy had managed to get all of her things (the whopping eight boxes and three garbage bags) into Thors floor of the Tower. Jane meandered down to the community kitchen to grab Thor so they could all go out (Jane had refused Thors help, stating she needed to do this herself, and kept to that story even when Thor pointed out Darcy was helping her) for a celebratory drink or something. Thor was chatting amicably to some dude with really nice arms and was about half of Thors size. He was talking animatedly with wild hand gestures and a lively set of expressions on his face. The whole team seemed to be spread out through the kitchen but they all (save for Thor and Clint) fell silent when Jane and Darcy walked in.

They all gaped at Jane and she shifted nervously from one foot the the other. Oh, god. Did she have something on her face? Did she stink? Shit. Wait, no, Darcy would have told her if- then it hit her. They weren't staring at her, they were staring at _Darcy_. Jane stepped to the side and looked between the Avengers and Darcy. Abruptly, all except Clint and Thor (who fell silent once they noticed their team mates were no longer talking) began shouting.

Tony: Holy shit! I thought- I mean- _Piper_?!?!  
Steve: Y-you! I know you! You were in the-  
Natasha: I knew it!

But they all fell silent when Bruce suddenly exploded and was the Hulk. Before Tony could say "arc reactor" Hulk had barrelled past Jane and scooped up Darcy into his arms, " **Mama-Death! You right! Hulk smash and not get in trouble! Spangly Man _want_ Hulk smash and Shooty Bird no shoot Hulk and Hulk _save_  Metal Man!**" He babbled excitedly, cradling Darcy like he was rocking a loved one.

"Uh" The blond man that wasn't Thor blinked, "What?"

Stark instantly started laughing, "Oh, sweet Jesus." He gasped, "Hulk called her 'Mama'."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "Actually, he called her Mama-Death. Care to explain, Lewis?"

Darcy shrugged, "When God is gone, and the Devil takes hold- who'll have mercy on your soul?" She sang lightly, a smile creeping over her lips. She wriggled free of Hulks grip and landed on her feet, keeping hold of Hulks hand as she did so. Once her feet hit the floor, her body shimmered, and her ratty jean/sweater combo melted away and was replaced by a sheer black dress that hugged her curves, her hair fell down around her shoulders, and her eyes darkened, as though age suddenly hit her, "My name is Death. The real Darcy Lewis altered plans and was unable to follow this course of destiny, so I took over for her. Certain things _need_ to happen, you know." Dar- _Death_ said, her tone was very placating and Jane had to wonder how long it took her to think that line up.

"What do you mean?" Clint asked, eyeing her oddly.

Death smiled warmly at her, "Recycled, in case you're still unsure." Clint's body seemed to relax at that for some reason, "It's a temporal destiny. Darcy Lewis needed to become Jane Fosters assistant so she could point out Thor in the image of the Einstien Rosen Bridge. If she didn't, Jane wouldn't have gone back for Thor. Thor wouldn't have learned humility. SHIELD wouldn't have learned of the other wordly threats and Loki would have taken over Asgard. Things _have_ to happen sometimes, so certain beings are around to gently nudge you folks in the right way." Death shuddered, "Trust me- I watched the other future, the one where Loki won, it was _not_ pretty."

"But, why come to me? I wasn't a part of Miss Fosters time-line." The All-America Man asked.

Tony bobbed his head rapidly, "Yeah, me too. Why hang out with me all those times?"

"And why stay with me after I was wounded?" Natasha asked curtly.

Death gave them all smiles, "Because you're _important_. You needed to know to _keep going_. The world is full of ever changing futures that you guys shape, or help shape. Without even just _one_ of you being exactly as you are now, this-" Death made a vague hand gesture at everything, "wouldn't be here."

Tony nodded, "Alright. Makes sense. Can I call you Piper, though?"

"No. I'm Darcy now."

Hulk squeezed her hand, " **Mama-Death.** " He corrected with a smile.

Death laughed, happy and free, "That too."

Jane gaped at her friend, "You mean to tell me you could have taken my research back the _whole time_?" The group laughed at that, and Jane thought, maybe, she could be happy here. With a god as her boyfriend and Death as her best friend, maybe things would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I just wanted to tell y'alll that I'm writing/posting this all from my phone, which mean the /words/ are meant to be italics. I plan to fix all of the mistakes I can see once I get to a computer in the next few days, but, until then- this is what I have to offer. I've been working on this for a little while, but it's un-beta'd by anyone but myself, so, please, tell me what I've missed. Then I can fix it! :D I might write a second chapter, idk. Tell me what you think, if you have the time! Thanks!
> 
> Also, I'm not sure I liked how I handled Death and Darcy interacting. I'm probably going to go back and re-write it. I dunno. What do you think?


End file.
